Proximity Shadows
by TASHAx
Summary: Neither Ginny Weasley nor Draco Malfoy had ever given each other a second thought, so why was it they couldn't help be drawn to one another now? In the shadows and half-light they begin to learn about one another. Rated M for naughtiness.
1. Stars

**Proximity Shadows**

_"I love the stars because they cannot say anything,_

_I love the stars because they do not judge anyone."_

_- _Natsuki Takaya

Ten years since the fall of Voldemort, the Wizarding world had found itself undergoing a few radical changes, the main one of which was that most wizards and witches now straddled both the Muggle and magical world and found themselves living and working in both communities with ease.

With Hermione Granger as head of the Department of Education within the Ministry, Muggle studies had become one of the core classes in Hogwarts from the age of eleven. Furthermore, night classes ran for adults to help improve their knowledge of the non-magical way of life; her hypothesis was that if the ignorance could be abolished, the fear and prejudice would also disappear eventually.

It seemed to finally be affecting the wider Wizarding community, and the anti-Muggle hate groups seemed to be dwindling. Naturally, Hermione was aware that it would take decades and a few new generations of magical folk before the attitudes of some of the older pureblood families changed, but she was proud of how well the community seemed to be adapting and changing. Thus it filled her chest with pride to help Ginevra Weasley, her sister-in-law and best friend, to move into her new Muggle flat in Chelsea.

Ginny had been as useless as the rest of her family, Percy aside, in adapting to the Muggle way of life; electricity perplexed her and the telephone had been something of an enigma to the young redhead. However, by happy accident one of Ginny's paintings had been spotted by a Muggle art dealer and some time last year she had been thrust into the Muggle limelight. She now enjoyed success in both worlds as an accomplished artist with a flair for capturing emotion.

It was nearly midnight when Ron, Hermione, Harry and Luna staggered out of Ginny's new home, leaving her sitting on the floor nursing a mug of red wine amongst mountains of boxes.

She had fallen in love with the property from the moment she saw it; it was big and spacious, with high ceilings and a view of both the communal gardens and the harbour. She was on the fifth floor, but had been assured that the flat was wonderfully soundproof. She would not disturb, or be disturbed by, the tenants above of below her. To be certain, however, Ginny had placed a couple of Silencing Charms over the rooms; she may be living in a Muggle flat but she was still a witch, and so long as the magic wasn't obvious or ostentatious she was well within her rights to cast charms on her home.

The walls were magnolia, but as Ginny had bought the property instead of renting she had grand decor plans. They, however, could wait until the morning.

Draining the dregs of her wine, she stood and stretched her arms up high, feeling her back crack satisfactorily. She padded around the boxes and bags until she reached her bedroom. The only thing she'd bothered roping her friends into setting up was her large oak bed. The duvet cover was cream with maroon and burnt orange paisley designs all of over it.

Without bothering to hunt out her tooth brush, Ginny pulled off her khaki maxi dress in one fluid movement, tossed her underwear aside, flicked off the bedroom light (that would take a little getting used to) and crawled into her bed. The fabric felt cool and crisp and new against her flesh. Lying in the darkness, her eyes no long assaulted by her new surroundings, her nose picked up on the smell of fresh paint and new carpets. The silence of living alone and in her new flat was satisfying and almost comforting. This was her space, her home.

**OOO**

Draco had been sitting on his balcony, sipping whiskey since he'd arrived home at about eleven o'clock that evening. He'd been watching the flat opposite him.

His Chelsea penthouse was a part of a large mansion of flats that was constructed in a square shape around a large communal garden. There were six floors to each side and two flats on each floor. It was nice, and despite a majority of the tenants being Muggles, Draco found he quite enjoyed the small community. Most kept to themselves, however everyone was friendly and respectful and, naturally, they had very little clue who the blond millionaire was. In fact, no one seemed to care; in Chelsea everyone had wealth, it didn't impress anyone there.

Draco worked for Malfoy Inc. and had been the first board member to want to branch out into the Muggle world. He had begun with publishing, then moved on to restaurants and bars throughout the major UK cities. He found he was enjoying the challenge of exploring new markets and clientele. Furthermore, the Muggle world gave him a little more freedom than the Wizarding world. Once he'd committed to helping forge relationships between the Muggle and magical community he'd found himself enjoying Muggles and their strange contraptions.

He wouldn't say he'd go as far to befriend - or_ date_ - a Muggle, but he no longer saw them as beneath him. Simply different. Furthermore, they left him alone. He could go for a drink, or to a shop without people gawping (well, he had his fair share of male and female attention but their eyes were more 'come hither' and less 'you're a dodgy type who shouldn't be trusted').

He continued to sit on his balcony and watch the flat opposite his, its windows all lit up with the warm glow of electric light in the darkness. The people inside cast long shadows across the walls, and if he wasn't mistaken it was Harry Potter, two of the Weasley siblings, Granger and Luna Lovegood that he could spy through the glass. He hadn't been certain who it was that was going to actually be living there until all but one shadow had left.

The youngest Weasley had finally left home. Draco was surprised it had taken her this long - she was a talented, succesful artist and was making an awful lot of money. He knew because he'd bought a painting of hers recently at a Muggle gallery for about twenty thousand pounds; it hung in one of his bars. The canvas was about six feet tall and a mesh of blue and purple hues. It depicted shadowy figures and half seen faces. It was eerie and interesting and he'd loved it right away. In fact, he'd considered hanging it in his own flat but couldn't bare the thought of what his father might say if he saw the Weasley girl's art hanging in his son's home. It wasn't worth the inevitable argument that would ensue. Draco had enough of battling with various prejudices outside of his family, without fanning his father's ire.

Draco watched as Ginny stood and stretched, her brilliant red hair falling down her shoulders like a waterfall. He watched her strip, her body naked and glorious. Perhaps she wasn't aware how bright her lights were, and who could see into her new home. Perhaps she simply didn't care. With a flick of a switch she was gone from his sight, and the night seemed peaceful and dark once more.

Looking up, Draco found himself gazing at the heavens; it must have been one of those incredibly rare, clear evenings in London. Having grown up in the countryside, Draco was used to being able to see the stars most of the time, however, since moving to town it had become a less frequent occurrence. He'd always loved stargazing; as a child he'd snuck out of the manor countless times to observe the stars. It was peaceful and beautiful and for a few hours it made him feel like he belonged to no one. No pressure, no judgement.

Finishing off his last gulp of whiskey he found himself shuffling back into his shoes, grabbing his keys and leaving his flat. Walking down the stairs rather than taking the elevator (one of the Muggle contraptions he still couldn't quite bring himself to trust), he found himself in the garden. His eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly and he found he soon walked not shrouded in complete darkness, but merely in a shadowy kind of grey.

Everything was muted, except the stars which twinkled above. He could hear the distant noise of London still dancing and drinking through the night, the buzz of taxis and night buses and sirens humming in the background.

He lay on the grass, arms folded beneath his head and breathed deeply. It had been a warm day and the air still smelled of summer heat, but the floor was cold and damp with dew already. It felt good; fresh and soothing. This week had been far too stressful and long.

**OOO**

She had expected sleep to come easily. It had been a long day; she had felt drained both emotionally and physically after moving out of her parents' this week. But she lay in the darkness of her new home watching the shadows caused by the city lights across her room, unable to drift off into unconsciousness. She felt content and relaxed, but seemed to have lost the wine haze that often carried her off to sleep the minute her head found a pillow.

She lay there for half an hour before deciding she was going to get up and be productive; she could spend an hour or two unpacking her studio, then go back to bed. She wasn't due at the Graffiti Gallery - a bohemian little space in Shoreditch, run by a Squib - until tomorrow afternoon, and thus could sleep late if she wanted to.

She clicked on the lamp that sat on the floor by her bed, and the room was flooded with dim, straw-coloured light, less harsh than the powerful overhead lights.

There was something about moving around after one was supposed to have been in bed that Ginny found illicit and naughty, like a child caught playing with toys or reading a book after they'd been told to go to sleep.

Ginny smiled as she remembered the amount of times her parents had found her asleep with her head resting on a sketchbook, pencil still loosely grasped in her hand, because she'd been sketching by moonlight instead of sleeping.

Not bothering with her discarded underwear, Ginny pulled on the figure-hugging maxi dress once more. Wanting to feel the evening air and hear the bustle of a city not yet ready to be silenced, she went to open the window. She stuck her head out into the night and breathed in the heady scent of London in summertime.

Suddenly something caught her eye. A man was lying in the centre of the gardens, flat on his back and staring up at the sky. Ginny too turned her eyes to heavens and glimpsed an inky black expanse filled with stars. She squinted down at the lone figure.

His hair was a shock of white, his skin greyish in the darkness. She wanted to draw him; wanted to capture his peaceful air, his open, easy posture. Delving into a box she knew contained some sketching supplies, she brought out a piece of A5 paper and a soft 5B pencil. It would be thick and smudge easily; perfect for capturing someone hidden in shadow and night.

Ginny wandered barefoot, clothed only in her dress, down to the gardens, smiling at the concierge as she passed by the desk and ignoring the old man's inquiring gaze. She wasn't intending to be out of bed too long, and she certainly wasn't planning on even alerting the man that she was there. Maybe she'd send him the finished sketch. Maybe he'd think that a little peculiar.

**OOO**

Draco felt more than heard the presence of someone else. Without lifting himself off the ground he casually moved his head to the right and was confronted by the sight of a ruffled and undone looking Ginevra Weasley. Her long hair looked as dark as rust in starlight, her skin stark and white and her nipples were brazenly apparent in her state of undress. She was clutching a small piece of paper and a pencil.

A look of recognition slid onto her features as she got closer. She wasn't wearing any shoes, he noticed, but she did have a delicate silver chain around her ankle.

Ginny cocked her head a little to the side, unsure whether to ruin the peace of the evening with inane conversation; silly how're you's and the dull "How's work?" seemed irrelevant and inappropriate.

They were in an incredibly public place at a very silent and unusual hour, and somehow the meeting felt raw and exposing. The air buzzed with something that neither could quite identify. To Draco's surprise the redhead swiftly covered the ground between them and lay down her head beside his, her body, however, facing the opposite way.

No one spoke. It transcended an awkward silence and became something unfamiliarly familiar and exciting.

She had only intended to sketch the man lying on the ground, however the nearer she had gotten the more drawn in she had become. Ginny had been drawn to this man's aura as he lay there in the darkness, then she had realised who he was and had been unsure of how to proceed.

He didn't seem to mind her presence, however. But his body language was not as relaxed as it had been; he was as acutely aware of her as she was of him. Ginny's body seemed to burn with attraction, Draco's proximity was making her nervous and tingly. Eventually, however, the feeling became enjoyable and she began to accept it rather than question it.

After what seemed like hours, Draco turned his head to Ginny. His nose centimetres away from her cheek, he could feel the tickle of wayward crimson hairs. She smelt of red wine and lavender.

"Do you know you're intruding on my stargazing, Miss Weasley?" There was no malice in his words, there wasn't even annoyance. His voice was deep and teasing and hushed. "I think your presence has made Cassiopeia jealous. She's gone into hiding..."

For the first time since lying down Ginny became aware that she was staring up into the night sky. A few clouds had begun to roll in, hiding some of the constellations.

"I'll apologise next time I see her," she whispered back, turning her head to face his, their noses almost touching.

She had never studied Draco Malfoy at all really, particularly not this closely. His skin was smooth and unblemished, his eyes large and almost silver in the lack of light although she suspected they would be grey in the morning. His lips were plump and the palest of pinks.

Draco was perplexed as to how this strange moment had begun and why either of them were allowing it to continue. It wasn't that he was still childish enough to hold a grudge against her or her family, but they certainly didn't know each other; their paths hadn't crossed for years.

He didn't know her at all, yet on this night he felt he knew her better than most. He had seen her naked from afar and now she lay next to him. Her eyes, which seemed so dark that it was impossible to tell where the pupils ended and her irises began, were alight with curiosity and attraction, her dusting of freckles especially prominent against her milky skin.

"Why are you here, Ginevra?"

"I wanted to sketch the man lying beneath the stars."

"So, do it."

And she did. The stars bore witness to the strangely silent incident in which both learned more about the other than they'd ever even thought to ask. When the picture was finished, Ginny smiled, thanked Draco and walked away. She fell asleep two hours before dawn with the sketch still in hand.

**OOO**

**A/N: **This was written for the D/G Forum's Fic Exchange (you should definitely check out the batch of fics written, they were _amazing_), and it was for Jessica (idreamofdraco).

I really, really, _really _enjoyed writing this. It just seemed to flow happily away all by itself.

It was speedily beta'd by the gorgeous Rowan (rowan-greenleaf).

**Jessica's Prompt #3:**

**Basic Premise: **"Everybody's got a dark side. Do you love me? Can you love mine?"

**Must Haves: **Lots of darkness, such as: night time setting, dim lighting, shadows, whispers. Draco and Ginny learning about each other.

**No-No's:** No angst. :) No nicknames like 'Mione and Weaslette (or references to weasels at all). No Harry/Ron/Hermione vs. Draco drama.

**Rating Range:** Any.

**Bonus Points: **Star gazing. Fortune telling.


	2. Strobe

**Proximity Shadows**

_"Night is a time of rigor, but also of mercy._

_There are truths which one can see only when it's dark."_

- Issac Bashevis Singer

It was a Friday night and the club was packed. The music was loud, pulsating through the air and the throng of people were gyrating to the beat, their skins glistening beneath the myriad of lights. The sickly-sweet smell of perfume, sweat and alcohol was thick in the air. Ginny was sat in a private booth with Hermione, Ron, Zacherias Smith, Colin Creevey and Parvati Patil. Harry and Luna were already on the dance floor.

Ginny had promised the flamboyantly camp Zach that she would dance once she'd finished her champagne. It was an evening to celebrate Ginny's birthday, Ron's promotion to Senior Auror, and Harry and Luna's engagement; it was decided very early in the evening that champagne was to be the drink of the night.

It had made Ginny feel giddy and mischievous. She drained the rest of the Bollinger, placed her glass on the table with gusto, and coyly gestured at Zach to let him know she was ready to be danced with. Parvati stood as well and the three of them strode into the throng of witches and wizards, they found a tight spot on the dance floor just as the music shifted into something filled with heavy bass and a strong, tribal beat.

Draco had been watching Ginny from a shady corner as she laughed and drank with her friends. _Circinus _was one of his clubs in the Wizarding world. He hadn't planned on staying there long tonight, but Blaise had convinced him to remain and play instead of working. However, after only an hour, Blaise had been distracted by a particularly beautiful witch and left the anti-social Draco sipping Firewhiskey alone. He had been tempted to leave but watching the crowds of intoxicated people interact had been oddly theraputic and then the woman that had been haunting his thoughts all week had burst through the club; her cloud of red hair making her instantly recognisable in the din.

It had been too dark when Ginny had been sitting in the booth with her friends, but now she had taken centre stage he could examine her properly. The lights overhead made her skin glow pink, purple and electric blue; the strobe made her movements fragmentary and staccato.

Her eyes were half-closed as she reached up behind her to cling onto the blond male she had arrived with, her body moving in sync with his. Her other arm was extended, her hand resting on the shoulder of Parvati Patil.

Ginny wore a pair of black, waist-high jeans and a tight red t-shirt that ended just below her bra, leaving a small expanse of her torso exposed. When she turned her back to him, Draco saw that her skin was covered in ink. It was impossible to tell what her tattoo was from this distance.

She had broken away from her companions, who were now dancing dangerously close to one another, and had begun swaying alone to the music, her arms raised high above her head. She seemed to be drinking in the atmosphere, absorbing all the emotion and hedonistic behaviour in the club, tasting the very essence of the music. She was beautiful. She was beautiful in a completely new way.

It had been five days since his strange meeting with her on the grass in the middle of the night, and it seemed that in this light and at this time she was someone different. The pulsating lights, the buzz of alcohol and the consuming music seemed to have transformed her into a raw, sexual being.

Stepping out of his shadowy corner, Draco prowled towards the dance floor, his stance becoming almost serpentine as he found himself closer to the redhead. The three men who'd surrounded her fell away at the arrival of the six-foot three-inch blond whose eyes seemed alight with an animalistic intent.

With his large hands he swept her damp hair back, his palms remained pressed against her skin, tightly framing her face.

Her large dark eyes flickered open and she found herself looking up at Draco Malfoy, his jawline covered in stubble, his eyes heavy-lidded, and his lips slightly parted.

He dragged both of his hands through her silky hair, allowing them to trail down her bare arms before spinning her round, her back nestling against his taut stomach. She felt him grip at her hips, pinning her to him, moving her body against his.

She could feel the shock and confusion emanating from her friends; she shot them a quick wink before wriggling around so she was facing Draco once more. She felt reckless, her rebellious spirit flying free and found herself not caring what her brother thought of her behaviour.

Her hands travelled up Draco's torso and found themselves wound into the hair at the nape of his neck. His crisp white shirt rubbed against the strip of exposed skin between her t-shirt and jeans and Ginny felt her nerve endings begin to frazzle. She could feel the strength in his body, the power that had nothing to do with physical prowess or fitness. She was only five feet tall; she felt utterly consumed by Draco.

She could smell his cologne, his skin, his clothes. Draco was hijacking all of her senses and sending them into override. Ginny felt his fingers tracing the inked lines over her back, then they disappeared briefly into the waistband of her jeans and lightly skimmed the top of her lacy panties, sending a jolt of heat to her core. Her stomach filled with warmth and anticipation but his touch was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

Draco couldn't fathom why he was so drawn to this woman; this strange, entrancing woman whom he'd never even had a proper conversation with. This evening, however, was not the time to know her intellectually, or to understand her. In this kind of darkness it was time for him to explore her sensually, to understand how she worked: What made her shiver with excitement? What did the skin along her spine taste like? What did she sound like when she came?

Draco bent down and kissed the side of her neck, his tongue trailing up the smooth flesh until he reached her ear.

"Come home with me."

Her skin was singing. She nodded her consent.

Putting up her hand Ginny gestured over to her friends.

"One minute."

Winding through the crowd, Ginny found herself back at the booth, her friends' faces a mixture of disbelief and drunken glee.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, you _sly_ old hinkypunk!" crowed Zach, clapping his hands together gleefully. "Are you _seeing _Draco Malfoy?"

Parvati let out a shriek of laughter.

She shrugged and took a sip of Ron's champagne; her brother was, thankfully, absent from the table.

"Do you even _know_ him, Gin?"

How Hermione was able to sound so level-headed and concerned whilst that inebriated was a mystery to Ginny. She wanted to be annoyed at how over-protective her friend was, but she couldn't bring herself to find energy it would require.

Because, truthfully, the answer would be no. She didn't know him at all, really. She knew his reputation, knew him in the twilight hours when he gazed at stars, and now she knew how it felt to have him pressed against her. To have him wanting her. She was getting to know him; slowly and strangely she was building a picture of who Draco Malfoy was.

Since she couldn't find the words to explain this to her friends, and since she hadn't told anyone about sketching him under the stars, Ginny simply said, "We're neighbours. I'll owl you tomorrow, guys… Have fun!"

Scooping up her bag she re-entered the crowd. Draco was still standing where she had left him, waiting for her to return whilst fending off the advances of a tall woman with long dark hair, whose legs were almost as long as Ginny's entire body.

Draco drunkenly smiled at seeing Ginny return to him and brushed aside the clamouring brunette. His arm snaked around the redhead's waist as he led her to the exit.

Once outside, the fresh air seemed to remind Ginny of how much champagne she'd consumed. She felt wide-eyed and reckless.

"Kiss me."

Her words were hoarse and whispered. Draco didn't hesitate. Beneath the streetlamp, he pushed her roughly so her back was against the wall. He pinned her there with his hips, one of his hands holding her wrists high above her head. His lips soon found hers, and it was as though he were a man dying of thirst being gifted with not just water, but some kind of nectar. Her mouth was pliant and yielding. He nipped at her bottom lip, pulling it down so her mouth was slightly parted, then taking advantage he slipped his tongue in to meet hers. His free hand found itself drifting up from her mid-thigh to her navel and finally rested upon her naked ribs, his thumb cheekily hooked under her bra, roughly stroking her breast. She felt her nipples hardening and her panties becoming wet. Her clit buzzed with arousal and they had barely begun.

"Unless you want me to fuck you against this wall, we have to go now." His voice was gruff, his language terse, but his eyes were filled with desire and wonder. He felt excited about the prospect of sleeping with Ginevra Weasley. She ignited him in a way no woman had for an incredibly long time. It was like being a teenager again; his skin was tingling, his cock throbbing and his imagination running wild. Holding her tightly, he Disapparated directly into his apartment.

**OOO**

Milky light from a fat, round moon gambolled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, dowsing the entire flat in an ethereal, muted glow.

Ginny broke away from Draco's embrace and dropped her bag to the floor. She began walking into his bedroom. The blond eagerly followed, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

Ginny peeled off her crimson top, revealing a dark green bra, her small pert breasts straining against the lace. Draco shook himself out of his shirt and began unfastening his watch as he stalked toward the petite redhead.

Without taking his eyes off Ginny he placed the watch on his dresser, and then closed the final few metres of space between them. Sinking down to his knees, Draco found he was the perfect height to reach around Ginny's back and deftly undo the clasp on her bra. The scrap of lace fell to the floor and suddenly he found he was eye-level with her dark pink, rosebud nipples. They were swollen and dark and begging for him to touch, to play, to taste.

His hands skimmed her flat stomach, causing her to breathe in sharply and then let out a small giggle - she was ticklish - however, her laughter soon became a surprising loudly moan as he put his mouth to her left nipple and sucked hard, his tongue swirling around the hardened nub. His hand massaged the other breast, rolling and pinching her, loving the sound of whimpers as she threw her head back in barely contained pleasure. The lavender scent of her skin engulfed him. Her knees shook slightly and Draco became aware of the fact that she may buckle if they continued there.

Standing, he unbuttoned her jeans and firmly pushed her back onto his bed, where he could slide the incredibly tight trousers off her legs. She lay there in white lace knickers and blood red stilettos, hair fanning around her head, with large dark eyes staring up at him, her lips parted and plump from his kisses. He felt his erection straining against his navy slacks.

Ginny had never felt so wanton, so desperately in need of a man's touch than at that very moment when she lay before Draco Malfoy. His toned chest, his strong, muscular shoulders and his hooded eyes all promised pleasure. It was as though he were some dark incubus, reading her desires, knowing her better than she knew herself. She wanted to bite him, to mark him. She wanted to feel him all around her, and in her; Ginny wanted him to consume her like smoke and flame.

Kneeling beside the bed, Draco grasped Ginny's thighs tightly and pulled her towards him, and her legs slid over his shoulders. The apex of her thighs inches from his face, he could smell her arousal. It was heady and feminine, the strongest aphrodisiac he knew. Ginny jumped a little as a sharp pain ran through her inner thigh;Draco had nipped her. Propping herself up on her elbows, she found herself fascinated with watching Draco lick and kiss her legs, his teeth grazing along her pale flesh.

Not being able to wait much longer, Draco ran his tongue over her lace clad pussy. The heat, the moisture and the roughness of her panties created a wonderful sensation, which caused Ginny to buck her hips up sharply. He licked her through the white lace a couple of more times, enjoying the breathy moans the redhead was biting out, before sliding her thighs off his shoulders and roughly spreading her legs wide. With firm, expert fingers Draco ripped a hole in the fabric of her panties and Ginny let out a shocked gasped. He was so carnal, so primal. She felt like his prey.

The instant his tongue made contact with her clitoris, Ginny felt herself melt. The heat of arousal coursed through her veins. He licked up and down the length of her sex slowly, his tongue sharply flicking at her clit every time he reached it. He heard her whispering his name each time she jolted with pleasure.

"Draco, let me taste you..."

Relinquishing his hold on her, Draco sat back on his haunches and Ginny lifted herself off the bed.

"You're wearing far too much, Mister Malfoy, I'm afraid you've _come _terribly overdressed for the occasion."

Smirking at the redhead's teasing, Draco stood. Before he could attempt to divest himself of his trousers, Ginny's nimble hands were unbuckling his belt and tugging the buttons out of their holes. She shimmied the slacks down to the ground, and Draco kicked them off. Next she made quick work of his socks, before roughly pulling down his boxers, allowing his erection to spring free. He was thick and long and already glistening. Sitting herself on the edge of the bed, Ginny opened her legs wide so that Draco could stand between them. She licked the tip of his cock and, despite trying to hold back, Draco let out a guttural grunt. It took all of his willpower not to grab a fist of her copper hair and thrust himself hard into her mouth.

Instead,Ginny licked him from top to bottom, her hand gently massaging his balls. The dull ache that had been building there was starting to ease, to make way for surges of pleasure. She twirled her tongue around the head of his penis, tasting him, before allowing herself to slide her lips over his cock and take him in her mouth as far as she could go. She allowed her lips to travel up and down his shaft a few times in quick succession, before slowly, tantalisingly, sliding down his cock until she had taken all of him in her mouth. She was staring directly up into his gaze, her eyes watering a little. Before she could make another move, Draco shoved her shoulders, pushing her back onto the bed and was climbing on top of her, kissing her, his hands tangled in her hair, his thigh pressing firmly against her pussy. She writhed against him, moaning into his mouth.

"Ride me."

Scooping her up, Draco repositioned them so he was flat on his back with Ginny straddling him. He could feel her wetness on his thigh, could smell their scents mingling in the air. Ginny positioned herself above his erection and slowly slid onto his throbbing cock. She could feel her body expanding for him. She was tight and it was a strange, painful, yet pleasurable sensation, having him nestled so deeply within her.

Once accustomed to him, Ginny lifted herself up and slid down once again, this time a little faster. She felt him hit a sweet spot inside of her that caused a strong surge of pressure. Throwing her head back, with her hands gripping onto Draco's thighs and back arched, Ginny began to ride the beautiful blond man beneath her. She was stunning. In the twilight, her skin looked iridescent, her hair wild as it fell down her back. Ginny's moans filled the room; yelps of pleasure and shouts of her lover's name reverberating against the walls.

Looking up at her, Draco dimly had images of a pagan goddess.

Strong, sensual and free.

With each thrust, Ginny could feel her pleasure building. Draco flipped them over with more grace than she'd have thought possible and pulled her up on her knees, one hand on her clit, the other holding a fist full of hair as he entered her from behind. They became more urgent, more frantic, Ginny pushing her hips back hard to meet each thrust.

Draco wanted to look into her eyes as she came. He wanted to know how she looked at the very moment of orgasm. An orgasm caused by him.

Pulling out of her, Draco rolled Ginny onto her back and finally yanked off the vestiges of her knickers. Bringing both of her legs up, he pulled off her shoes and kissed the arch of her right foot. She smiled at his tender gesture. Seconds later he had put both of her legs up against his chest and was entering her once more, leaning down on her legs so they were now crushed up against both his and Ginny's chests and he could access her mouth. He was everywhere, the pressure inside her was building. In this position each thrust was so deep she was sure she was going to split in two. The pleasure was so intense that every nerve ending, every cell, every fibre of her being was screaming Draco's name.

Draco could feel himself coming close to climax.

"Come for me, Ginevra, look at me!"

Dark brown eyes met icy grey. Her moans grew louder, and Draco's thrusts seemed deeper, his groans matching Ginny's in volume. Blood was singing in her ears, her skin was slick with sweat and saliva and with one final thrust Ginny came.

Her screams of pleasure and the tightening of her muscles around Draco's cock pushed him over the precipice, and he too felt himself come so hard he could barely see the gorgeous redhead beneath him.

Breathing ragged and deep, Draco pulled out of Ginny and felt himself collapse beside her. He could feel her hand tickling his back lightly, her fingers exploring the scars that littered his flesh. Being a child of a family who supported Voldemort had not been easy, and now he bore a few lasting reminders of the poor decisions of his youth and his parents' choices. He was not one to dwell on the past; he was a different man now, but he hoped his scars didn't scare her away.

He rolled onto his back. "Don't they bother you?"

Ginny shook her head sleepily. "Not at all. I think the fact you wear your bad decisions and face ownership for not only who you are, but how far you've come is admirable. I wasn't so brave."

She turned on her side, revealing the tattoo which covered a majority of her back. It looked almost as if done in water colours; bright, blurred colours. It was a plethora of flowers.

"Each one represents someone in my family. Their favourite flowers, or flowers associated with their birthdays or something, you know?"

"It's beautiful."

Ginny turned back to face Draco, his fingers lazily caressed her breasts. More tender, and exploritory, than sexual this time but her nipples still stiffened beneath his touch.

"Thank you. It's there to hide the ugliness of war. Not only did others injure me, but I injured them too." Her voice seemed distant. "And I don't like that side to me. It's ruthless and-"

"-Necessary."

She smiled down sadly at the blond beside her. "Yes, that too."

She kissed his forehead, still slick with perspiration. "Sorry, Draco. I really should go...I have a meeting with my agent in...three hours, and I need to not look like I was awake until five in the morning."

"Yeah, okay. Understandable."

Draco watched as she jumped out of the bed and began pulling her clothes on again. Picking up her panties, she seemed to decide there was no point bothering with the ripped lace again and stuffed them into her bag. With the bravado of the champagne wearing off, the heat of lust cooling and the hangover beginning to kick in, Ginny suddenly felt uncharacteristically shy and awkward.

"Right...I'll, erm, be going..."

"Ginevra?"

She looked up, cheeks burning pink, to see Draco standing inches away from her. He placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

"I _will _see you soon."

Once she'd left, Draco stepped into the shower, knowing he couldn't help but stay true to his word; he couldn't not see her soon. She was fascinating – intoxicating - and he wanted to know everything about her.


	3. Blackout

**Proximity Shadows**

_"I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow..."_

Sylvia Plath

Ginny lay in her large bathtub with her eyes closed, savouring the feeling of being immersed in the warm, scented water. Today had felt incredibly long; she was (barely) functioning on two hours of sleep, her head felt thick with champagne from the night before, and she had been in meetings all day. Her limbs felt heavy and achy, but gloriously - _deliciously _- so.

Every time she had thought about a certain blond, and his exploration of her body, her face had broken into a secret smile that caused mischief to twinkle in her eyes. Thoughts of Draco standing above her - touching her, tasting her - conjured a kind of special warmth in the pit of her stomach that not even her hangover could diminish.

He'd been in the periphery of her life for nearly eighteen years, but this week he'd stepped out from the shadows and she'd begun to want to know him. Two evenings was all it had taken to have her hooked on him. She felt as though within him she had discovered a kindred spirit; one who was a little broken, a little misunderstood. He was someone who was ultimately free and unhindered by the opinions of others. He possessed a confidence, a self awareness, that she had found in few individuals. It was entrancing.

Their nighttime meetings in the darkness and half light had felt illicit and charged with attraction, lust and intrigue. She had tried to explain to Zach and Hermione over lunch that afternoon, but hadn't been able to speak the words she wanted to say; their encounters hadn't been reliant on conversation, but on feeling. On the silent exploration of one another. Thus, it seemed, a verbal explanation of Ginny and Draco could not capture the odd moments of intimacy that had passed between the two of them.

As someone who often observed the world in order to be able to capture it on canvas, Ginny was a self-proclaimed expert in learning about people, situations and places without the need for a spoken language.

Usually if she had gone home with a man, she'd have felt a whirligig of negative emotions; fear of rejection, shame, and the odd sensation that she had over-exposed herself. She'd always recover, however, having learnt to be the kind of person who didn't dwell on regrets and past events. Ginny had learned long ago that without the use of a time turner, she couldn't change the past.

Normally she'd have accepted Zach's offer to spend the evening on his sofa eating pizza and over-analysing the situation, however today she felt up for none of that. She was tired and a little testy but ultimately she felt oddly complete. Excited and sated.

Ginny, much to the distaste of her brothers, had always been of the opinion that sex wasn't anything overtly sacred, but even she knew it rarely felt as it had last night. It was as though a connection existed that was deeper than their short acquaintance should allow. She felt as if she'd discovered something big this past week, it was as though she was standing on the precipice of something that could fundamentally change her forever. Not that she was planning beyond the end of the week, but since that first evening, and in the shadows of this morning, Ginny had known she'd never experienced anything remotely like this before. It was terrifying and vast and primal. It was like being taken over by one's base instincts; all she wanted to do was act upon her urges and whims.

As an artist who was renowned for painting emotional pieces any experience was a welcome one, even if it was a brief and transient. Deep in the back of her mind, she hoped Draco wasn't temporary. Ginny thrived on emotion and she'd already become addicted to the way he made her feel.

She had been about to run more hot water in an attempt to reheat the bath a little, but in the same moment that her hand touched the tap, the light overhead flickered and the room went black. A little wave of panic shot through her. Whenever magical lights or enchanted candles dimmed it generally meant something untoward was occurring.

A moment later, however, relief flooded through her as Ginny remembered that a few months ago her Muggle Studies tutor had warned them of the perils of living in non-magical homes which ran on electricity. This, she supposed, was a power cut.

"Perfect." The redhead groused as she pulled herself heavily out of the water.

Careful to step onto the mat, she blindly groped for her towel. For a moment she considered finding her wand and illuminating everything with a decent Lumos Charm, but then it occurred to her that if her flat was seen by a neighbour to have fully functioning lighting she may cause more of a stir than she was meant to. Furthermore, the thought of Hermione's lecture when she found out that Ginny couldn't even cope with a simple power cut without magic was enough to make her pull on her bath robe, tighten the sash and go in search of some candles. Besides, she reasoned, candlelight might be slightly less aggressive with her pounding headache. She hadn't had the will or time to brew, or even buy, a hangover remedy that day.

Navigating the flat in the dark wasn't as difficult as Ginny had initially thought, and she thanked Merlin that she'd packed the majority of her boxes away throughout the week. The thought of trying to find anything in the nest of cardboard and possessions that had been in the living room on Monday morning was, if possible, enough to make her head hurt even more. Locating a bag of tea lights in the cupboard under the sink, she cheated a little by igniting them with the tip of her wand (a part of the anecdote she'd accidentally forget when telling her pro-Muggle-living friends), and the open plan kitchen and living room was soon flooded with dim, flickering lights.

**OOO**

Draco had been sitting in the darkness for the past hour. Being one of the richest - and most intimidating - residents, the building manager had visited him within ten minutes of the electricity dying. He had tried to explain to Draco about cut power lines and cables under the ground and ensured him that by tomorrow morning everything would be returned to normal. Draco had stared at him, looking confused, unimpressed and lacking in any kind of patience until the blustering man finally excused himself and scurried away.

This was the first time he regretted living in a Muggle built property, and he was seriously considering going to spend the evening at the manor with his parents. However, the thought of explaining his presence in the family home to his father, who would roll his eyes and mock his son for trying to live in a place that meant he was intergrated with Muggles, was reason enough to keep Draco firmly planted on his own black leather sofa.

Lucius Malfoy, mercurial as always, had adapted to the changes happening in Wizarding society. Publicly, anyway. Privately he made his snobbery and prejudice to his family and friends painfully apparent. Draco had long ago learnt that he did not need to share the views of his parents, and that he could smile and nod at his father, who no longer had the bite he once had anyway.

A small knock at the door pushed thoughts of his parents out of Draco's mind. Wondering who would possibly be visiting him on a Saturday night at his home, the blond blindly made his way to the front door, tripping on his briefcase as he did so.

"_Fuck! Ouch!"_

On the other side of the door stood Ginny, who couldn't help but smirk at the expletives emitting from Draco's flat. Her hair was still damp and beginning to curl, and she was clothed in an over-sized blue shirt and leggings. In one hand she held a burning candle, and in the other was a canvas bag.

It had occurred to her, as she sat in her shadowy flat, that perhaps Draco was sitting not too far away, alone and in the dark too. Maybe he was also contemplating going to a friend's house, or finding a restaurant or bar to spend the evening in. And maybe, like her, he'd come to the conclusion that he didn't really want to be around lots of strangers in public, surrounded by inane chatter and bustle.

She hadn't even been sure he'd be awake or home at all. It had simply been an impulse and Ginny, being a Weasley and a little reckless, had never been one to ignore her impulses. As she'd walked through dark corridors and up flights of stairs with only her candle and the eerie green glow of fire exit signs to light the way, her nerves and insecurities had started to play havoc in her mind. What if she was being foolish in seeking out Draco's company? He was known for being a workaholic and a bit of a recluse. It was said that was why he'd chosen to live amongst the Muggles; he wanted a break from the infamy of the Wizarding world. And here she was, a strange, red haired, freckled intrusion into his evening, arriving uninvited and possibly unwanted at his door.

Despite having been so intimate with Draco only hours before, butterflies filled her stomach; he was beautiful and isolated and confusing. She had no idea why he had accepted her presence in his life this week, or even why she wanted to be a part of his. However, it was the thought of him approaching her across that crowded dance floor the night before, of his hands exploring the contours of her body, and his request she come home with him which gave her the confidence to knock at his door. He could turn her away or he could ignore her, but Ginny decided long ago that she couldn't allow herself to have regrets. The smile that lit up the tall blond's face as he opened the door, and saw the petite redhead illuminated by candlelight, was enough to confirm to Ginny that she wouldn't regret acting on this particular impulse.

"Come to see if I was afraid of the dark, Weasley?"

"Well, I wouldn't want you to suffer alone."

Amusement etched all over his features, he stepped aside to allow her access to his apartment. He had no light, magical or otherwise, she noted as she placed her own candle on the table in front of the sofa.

"I bought you some candles." Her husky whisper carried across the otherwise silent space.

Looking down at his feet, Draco inhaled deeply and shut the front door before turning around to lean against it. He was watching the redhead invade his space the way she had invaded his thoughts and his life. He had no idea why he was so willing to accept her; he didn't have any friends really, didn't seek the company of others. He was social when he needed to be, but mostly Draco spent his time working to fix the Malfoy reputation and build up his empire. He liked exploring the world and the intricacies of life but didn't mind doing it alone. Blaise, Pansy and Theo were the only people outside of his family that he generally found pleasure in spending time with. He didn't really date, had never had a serious relationship and never sought to turn business colleagues into friends. Occasionally a witch would catch his eye but never for long.

Draco swallowed. He felt nervous around this redhead. This little artist with her little quirks and big personality. With her creamy skin that looked almost blue in the moonlight, and smatterings of freckles.

"What's in the bag?"

Draco gestured towards the big white bag she had dumped on his sofa.

Looking up from the candle she was lighting, the bright yellow-orange flame starkly illuminating her face, she replied, "Dinner. I wanted to invite you to a carpet picnic. On your carpet."

"I see."

She looked so beautiful, with the candlelight creating shadows around her impossibly big eyes. There was a brief silence.

"I don't have a carpet, you see, and mahogany isn't as comfortable...I can leave though, if you'd like?" Panic flooded through her voice; fear that she'd massively over-stepped the proverbial mark ringing through her final words.

"No, please don't..." Draco hadn't meant to make her feel uncomfortable. He was simply trying to process, to understand, what was happening and how it had happened. He wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with how at ease Ginny seemed to be in his life, but the thought of upsetting her, of letting her leave, filled him with dread. "I would love to have a carpet picnic with you, Miss Weasley. I'll get us some plates, shall I?"

Shaking his head Draco strode into the kitchen. Ginevra Weasley really must was the most peculiar witch he'd ever encountered.

When he'd returned to the living room he found she had moved the coffee table aside, and on the carpet was a spread which included a pot of olives, sliced chorizo, cherry tomatoes, a baguette, pickled red peppers and goats cheese. Right on cue his stomach grumbled and Ginny giggled.

"Appears I arrived just in time, Mister Malfoy." Her cheeky grin was infectious.

"Would you like a drink? Wine?"

Ginny grimaced. The thought of yet more alcohol made her stomach churn in protest. "Maybe just some water?"

"Certainly, Madame. Feeling a little delicate today are we?" Draco's voice was teasing, but he returned a few seconds later with two large glasses of iced water and sat on the floor besides Ginny, his back propped up against the sofa.

"Well, I'm nearly feeling human again. Champagne always seems like such a good idea at the time."

"Well, a little champagne _is_. Ten bottles, however..."

He was laughing at her; she had never thought of Draco Malfoy being the type to tease. In fairness, before this week, she never thought of Draco Malfoy at all.

"How long were you watching us for?"

"Oh, long enough, Weasley." He winked and popped an olive in his mouth. A silence descended as both ate a little food.

"You don't mind me being here do you?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. I mean, I'm not sure _why _I don't mind you being here but...no, I don't mind."

Both ate their fill and the conversation flowed easily. Discussions ran from topic to topic with no pressure or tension. Light, accidental touches as each reached around the other for food made Ginny's skin tingle. She was thankful for such low lighting as her cheeks were rosy pink and warm. The blond man beside her made her stomach fill with nervous energy.

Draco thought she may be the most wonderful creature he'd ever seen. No one ever fascinated him and he simply didn't have time to notice people anymore. He had been a bully in his youth, he had been popular and cruel. But he had been through a devastating experience - like most people during the war - and now he was someone who didn't like being around people all that much at all. He found them tiring and draining. Found small talk and polite conversation boring.

He had watched the Dark Lord reduce people to quivering wrecks, had seen his home taken over, his parents tortured. He had been a child that had been forced to make adult decisions, and he had chosen all the wrong ones. He was ashamed of his past but he did take ownership for it; admitted to his errors and tried to atone for his past behaviour. As such he found he shied away from anyone who would judge him for those mistakes he'd made and he feared that most people would judge him for his darker side.

Draco had retreated into Malfoy Inc. and, until now, had seen no reason to come out of hiding.

He listened to Ginny talk about her art; about the year of art school she put herself through before realising it wasn't for her. She had decided that if she wanted to be a painter she simply had to paint. She spoke about her brothers, about missing Fred, about falling out of love with Potter, about travelling around Europe, about learning to cook Indian food in a village outside of Dehli. She, in turn, discovered Draco's love of Muggle literature, his passion for his business, his love for his three close friends, and his fears of failure and loneliness. He was happy to be alone, but feared reverting back to his sixth-year-self at Hogwarts; to feel that lonely and trapped again was his greatest phobia.

They had been conversing for hours when the last candle burnt itself out. The flat settled into darkness once more and silence suddenly filled the space between them. Silence that was charged and honest.

The lack of light made him bold.

"Ginny. I don't know what's happening between us, but I have to let you know I'm not an easy man to be close to. I struggle with relationships with anyone. I'm not some cold bastard like most would like to think I am, but I'm not a hero, I don't like the limelight or attention. I'm not as open as I wish I could be."

"Draco," she said softly, "everyone involved in the war has a dark side. We all have a past that we aren't proud of. Whether we were fighting for right or wrong, we all committed sins. We can't let that dictate everything we become. We just have to embrace it; embrace our faults and scars, and try to live."

"I'm glad I've met you, Ginevra Weasley."

She laughed and reached out a hand, blindly tracing the lines of his face. Her feathery touches travelled over his eyelids, down his nose and along his stubbly jawline. Her hand travelled down his neck and sternum and finished on his heart. His breath hitched. She could feel his heartbeat; steady and strong.

Ginny felt as though she could almost hear the pounding of Draco's heart: He was alive. He was surviving like everyone else in their generation.

"You know what, Draco, I don't believe anyone really knows you at all. Well, perhaps your family and friends do but...the outside world. The rest of us. I don't think you've ever shown who you really are, but I'm glad you're letting me see you now."

In the darkness, in hushed voices, they told each of the war they'd experienced and of the pain and guilt they still carried. The hope, the hurt, the fight. The nightmares that still occasionally woke them from their slumbers.

Ginny told him about Tom Riddle possessing her and the lasting fear that she'd forever be a possible conduit for darkness. Draco revealed everything about trying to kill Dumbledore, and how disgusting he had felt when - even in the old wizard's last moments - he had tried to save Draco's soul from being ripped in two.

There was a silent promise passing between them that seemed to say they'd try; they'd try and see where this path together could go. They would try to love the darkness and the light in one another.

**OOO**

Draco awoke swathed in a tangle of Ginny Weasley's limbs and red hair. Sunlight shone brightly into the flat and, for the first time that week, he saw her properly. There were no flickering shadows, muted moonlight or strobe lighting to hide behind just lots of bright dawn sunshine beaming in through his windows. Her hair was a shock of vibrant crimson, her skin a good deal paler than he had thought, and her face was beautiful and serene. She was breathing deeply, utterly unaware of his perusal of her.

So far she had been like a nymph in the night, a creature of half-light and shadows. Something ethereal and transient. Each of their previous meetings had felt like a dream, like a bizarre trick of the light. But now she was real; she was lying here and consuming every part of him even as she slept. Her scent was invading his nostrils. He ran his free hand along her arm and wondered when it was they'd fallen asleep.

Draco couldn't remember _ever_ talking so much. Maybe it had been the darkness or maybe it had been the hushed voices, he didn't know, but something about Ginny Weasley last night had made him want to confess and discuss everything. She didn't judge him, or berate him. He felt safe exposing himself to her.

This enchanting, provocative woman had agreed to try and make something between them work, and Draco was determined to keep her with him for as long as possible. He was essentially a selfish creature and Ginny complimented him perfectly; she made him feel happy, buoyant and unafraid.

He brushed his lips to the top of her head and smiled to himself as he settled back down to sleep some more. A strange calm roamed around the flat; there was a kind of serenity he didn't think he'd ever feel washing over him and cleansing him.

As Draco's breathing became deep and even once more, Ginny opened her eyes and intrinsically knew that this was the start of something of glorious.

**A/N: **There we go. All done.

I may be tempted to write more of this Ginny and Draco in a companion piece at some point as I quite liked their characterisation here and do want to explore it further but...we'll see! Thanks for reading.

Tash.


End file.
